


What You Know vs. What You Feel

by orphan_account



Series: What vs. What [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Heavy Drinking, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male Slash, Rape Recovery, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to What You Say vs. What You Mean, read that first please.  Now Complete</p><p>Chapter 1: A Single Day - One mans good news is another mans nightmare.<br/>Chapter 2: Pay For It - Ethan Drunk-texts Reid.  It it a threat or a warning?<br/>Chapter 3: What he Hides - There is something about the attack that Reid doesn’t even know about.<br/>Chapter 4: Love and Friendship – Clooney comes home and Garcia and Ashley learn the truth.<br/>Chapter 5: Paper Reality - Garcia does some snooping into Ethan's cyber life.<br/>Chapter 6: Greatest Hopes and Fears - Emotions run high as Ethan is finally cornered.<br/>Chapter 7: Do It Quickly - The real aftermath of Garcia's discovery unfolds</p><p>Part three is up!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Single Day

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my GOSH, I can’t believe that this is up so soon! I had planned on waiting awhile; maybe finishing a few oneshots that have been floating around my brain, but all of your reviews spurred me on!
> 
> If you have clicked on this without reading What You Say vs. What You Mean, you need to go read that first otherwise you will have no clue as to what is going on. 
> 
> Oh, and for all the people who want Ethan’s head, this first chapter will probably piss you off something terrible!

_“A single day is enough to make us a little larger or, another time, a little smaller.” Paul Klee_

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t have enough to charge him?” Morgan yelled into the phone and almost stood up from his seat at the table in the breakfast nook. “You have DNA and fingerprints placing him at the scene, you have blood evidence and a full S.A.E. What more could you possibly need?”

It hadn’t been more than an hour or so after Morgan and Reid had returned home from the hospital that they received a call saying that Ethan had been arrested. Seventy-two hours later, however, he was apparently walking out of the police station.

Detective Fowler from the DCPD sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “The knife, Agent Morgan, we need the knife, and if he ditched it in a trashcan or dumpster somewhere, it’s long gone by now. I’m sure that by way of occupation you are all too familiar with situations like this. The evidence that our CSI collected at the scene proves that two friends met for drinks one night and things got sexual. But until we believe we could prove beyond reasonable doubt in a court of law that what occurred was rape and not just rough consensual sex, than I’m sorry to say it, but Ethan walks.” 

Silence hung on the line. Morgan hated it but he knew that the detective was right. Without solid, indisputable proof, Ethan was going to get off scot-free. 

Then the detective delivered even more news that Morgan did not want to hear. “There is one more matter, Agent Morgan. You’re surely aware that your agency requires us to send a full report of this incident to Dr. Reid’s immediate supervisor.” 

“It’s our team’s vacation week. Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner is in New York. He won’t be home until Friday or at his desk until Monday.”

“Which is why the report has already been sent directly to Timothy Lovelady.”

 _No, no, no, anyone but Lovelady,_ Morgan thought with dread. Timothy Lovelady was the acting Section Chief (1), and it was safe to say that no one was a fan of the man whose promotion was only months away from becoming permanent. Morgan let out a defeated sigh. “I guess I can be expecting a call soon, then.”

“I’m sorry, Agent Morgan. I tried to convince the Captain to wait until Monday to get a hold of Agent Hotchner, but he’s a stickler for protocol if I ever saw one. I guess that's why they pay him the big bucks.”

“Yeah, same with Lovelady. Thanks for the heads up, though.”

Morgan hung up and rubbed his scalp. _What am I going to tell Spencer?_

He didn’t have to worry about that for long. He sensed something somehow and turned in his seat to see Reid standing there. The exhaustion of several nights of choppy, wrestles sleep showed on his stubbled face. His slender frame was wrapped in a fleece blanket that he clutched to his chest to hold it close around him.

“How much did you hear?” Morgan asked. 

Reid’s shoulders slumped. “Only nine out of every forty-three in one hundred reported sexual assaults lead to prosecution. We shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Surprised? No.” Morgan admitted. “Devastated and pissed off? Defiantly.”

Reid nodded slightly. The interviews, the statements and the horrific S.A.E. and rape kit had all been in vein if Ethan could never be charged. Reid felt almost as violated by this knowledge as by the assault itself.

_Twelve out of every forty-three reported rapes lead to arrest. This was not worth what I had to go thru to even get this far!_

“And the report has already been sent to Lovelady?”

Morgan nodded. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought for sure he heard Reid mutter the words “fucking excellent” under his breath.

Reid turned to leave. “I’m going back to bed.” He wished he could curl up in bed and never, ever get back up.

“It’s almost noon. Aren’t you hungry?” Morgan asked. They had almost had a less than horrible day yesterday and Morgan hoped that he could salvage what was left of the morning.

“No,” Reid snapped a bit more harshly than he had intended.  


“Come on kid. You barely ate last night.” Reid did not reply, but did not leave either. “Look, I can’t force you to eat if you don’t want to, but if you don’t get something besides coffee-flavored sugar in that stomach, you’re bound to make yourself sick.”

“I guess now that I think about it I am a bit hungry,” Reid replied with his back still turned. 

“Alright. Why don’t you go lay back down for a bit while I fix us some breakfast.”

Reid nodded and, with a yawn, returned to the bedroom.

Morgan decided to make quick work of his signature deluxe breakfast sandwiches, which consisted of fried eggs, bacon, Swiss cheese, tomato and romaine lettuce on toasted whole-grain bread. He remembered the first time he had prepared this meal for his lover of then only three months. Reid hadn’t thought it a very breakfast-like meal, but he had ended up loving it and even requesting it quite often in the years to come.

Morgan smiled at the memory and hoped that Reid would find some pleasure and comfort from his favorite morning meal. 

_ **WIANWIANWIANWIAN** _

He stepped out into the sun for the first time in three days. He took a deep breath thru his nose and let it out in a satisfied sigh. He knew the cops would have nothing on him without the knife, which he had wrapped in a trash bag and abandoned in a dumpster behind the convention hall. His head was no pumpkin after all. He may have only had one day of FBI training under his belt, but he had friends on both sides of the law. He knew how things worked. 

“Mr. Betchan,(2)” a voice behind him called. He turned to see his attorney who had flown in the previous night.

“There’s nobody important within earshot, Paul. Cut the formal crap.” Paul Marquis was not only Ethan’s go-to lawyer, but also his long time friend, occasionally with “benefits.” Of course the local PD could not be allowed to know the details of their relationship. 

Paul ruffled his own unruly light-auburn hair. “Damn it, Ethan, you really got into it this time, didn’t you?”

Ethan scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks to the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Forget about the snitching little G-man, Ethan. Come back to New Orleans with me. Today. Right now. The earliest flight is in one hour. We might be able to make it if we hurry.”

Ethan gnawed his lip as he did when he was contemplating something. He took his phone out of his pocket and just looked at it, smiling.

“What’s that little look on your scruffy old face for?” Paul asked rhetorically. 

Ethan smiled wider and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He looked at the inquisitive attorney who was now lighting a cigarette. Paul held the pack out to Ethan, who declined the offer with a slight wave of the hand.

“Oh, yeah. You won’t smoke because it turns your finger nails yellow.” The smoker laughed and shook his head. “Obsessive compulsive. Always obsessed with your damn hands.”

Ethan was, in fact, obsessed with his hands. They were always clean with the nails trimmed immaculately. He even shaved his knuckle hair daily. 

“You know you’re obsessed with my hands, too,” Ethan jested.

Paul smirked and blew smoke out his nose. “Maybe just a little.”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ethan prompted. “We can go back to the hotel and leave tomorrow. I need a few decent Z’s. And a drink. Besides, I want to show you something.” Ethan winked and distinctly patted the pocket that held his $400 smartphone. 

“Should I be nervous?” Paul asked as they started walking towards his rental car. 

“You know what they say. There are three people a man should never lie to: his priest, his shrink, and his lawyer. Well, I don’t go to church or therapy, so if I lie to you, I’m in a world of hurt, now aren’t I?”

_“Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken.” Jane Austen_


	2. Pay For It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan drunk-texts Reid. Is it a threat or a warning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe how fast I’m spitting out chapters, and lengthy ones at that! Thanks to everyone for being amazing! Oh, and I’m upping the rating to M for implied sex. And…wait a minute…do I see MoReid fluff in there somewhere?!

_“It is impossible to suffer without making someone pay for it; every complaint already contains revenge.” Friedrich Nietzsche_

After a round of rough, sweaty, loud, but mutually consensual sex with Paul, Ethan slept for the soundest six hours of his life. When he woke up, he drank. He drank and drank and drank until the minnie-fridge in the hotel room that he was now sharing with the still-sleeping red-hared lawyer was empty. 

He thought about Reid and the three days he’d spent in a holding cell because the genius just HAD to go to the authorities. The more he thought about Spencer, and the more he drank, the angrier he made himself. Ethan became even angrier when he realized that the liquor was gone. Thankful that Paul was still snoring in the bed, Ethan grabbed his phone and wallet and headed downstairs to the bar.

For seven thirty in the evening, the bar seamed quite empty. Then again it was a Wednesday evening. He sat down at a far corner and slapped down a bill the denomination of which he took no notice. “Jack Denial’s, my good old friend,” he slurred.

The bartender looked at Ethan quizzically and served him his drink. “Looks like you’ve already hit the bottle face first.”

“If you had to deal with the bull shit I’ve gone thru these past three days, you’d be hittin’ it just as hard, believe you me. What’s your name?”

The bartender laughed and it shook his prominent belly. “Names Scotty Boyd. You?”

“Ethan Betchan.”

“Well, Ethan, care to vent your frustrations? Pour your heart out on the counter? Don’t worry, I’ve got a rag.”

Ethan chuckled. “I appreciate your offer, Scotty, but this is something I need to sort out my self, and there’s no way I can do that with a clear head.”

“Aw, come on. Let me guess. Woman?”

Ethan cringed. “Not exactly.”

Scotty cocked a bushy black eyebrow. “Man?”

Ethan glared at Scotty, who raised his hands defensively. “Hay, now, I don’t judge. I’m straight as an arrow myself, got a wife and three rugrats, but I don’t hate the ones bent like a bow or anything, ya know?”

Ethan nodded and decided he could let go just a little. “He fucking called the cops on me, man. Can you believe that shit?”

Scotty whistled low. “Damn, you got it rough.”

“I just got out of jail. I mean, I’m not getting charged with anything, my lawyer is…” Ethan paused to find just the right word for what Paul was to him, “…amazing to say the least. But I still had to sit in a dirty-old holding cell for three damn days. Can you believe that bull shit, Scotty?” Ethan held up three fingers. “Three stinking, miserable, boring-ass days.” Ethan looked at the glass in his hand and realized that he had been so engrossed in his conversation with Scotty that he hadn’t touched his drink. He gulped down the liquor and slammed the glass down on the counter. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket to send a text message to the Reid, object of his anger, to tell him just how pissed he was, and that he wasn’t going to let it slide. 

“Wow, now, little buddy. You should never text while angry and you should never text while drunk. You my fine sir are both. You said it yourself; you had to sit in the slammer. I wouldn’t do anything to get myself in any more trouble if I were you.”

“If you were me,” Ethan said, standing up on shaky legs, “You would never have gotten into my shoes because let me tell you something, Scotty. I’m a Jazz musician in New Orleans, and I know people. You are a nice guy; a humble, gentle, big Teddy bear kind’a guy. I’m not. Because I’m about to do this.” Ethan pressed the “send” button on his phone and showed the screen to Scotty. “And I won’t regret a single word.” He glanced over to a piano in the corner and smiled. “Is it open?”

Scotty stared at his patron in shock. He was beginning to believe that whoever had put him in jail probably did it for a damn good reason. However, in regards to the piano, Scotty nodded. “Knock yourself out.”

“It’s been good talking to you, Scotty.”

Ethan staggered to the instrument and sat down. He pressed one key to make sure it was in good tuning before beginning. Despite his intoxication, his slender, perfect fingers rendered a beautifully smooth melody. His anger was fading and the whisky was numbing him. He continued to think of Reid, but now he thought of their early days together, the happy times when he could have the younger man begging for him with a single touch. He relaxed at the though, closing his eyes and losing himself in the memory of breathy moans and pleasure cries mingling harmoniously with the tune he knew by heart. 

_** WIANWIANWIANWIAN ** _

It was just after seven thirty and the day had been mostly calm for Reid and Morgan. Mostly. Reid did indeed, to Morgan’s delight, eat his entire breakfast sandwich. He then went back to bed, only to wake up an hour later with a wracking nightmare in which he re-lived the attack. After that Reid confided his devastation at Ethan’s release to Morgan, who listened intently, only speaking when asked a direct question but otherwise allowing Reid to open up. Morgan was glad beyond words that Reid was opening up and not compartmentalizing, although he barely touched dinner later. 

That evening while they lay in bed, on opposite ends, Morgan felt the need to let Reid know how he felt. “Spenser?” Morgan waited for Reid to face him to continue. “You have no idea how relieved I am that you are actually willing to talk to me. Too many people hide themselves away and it hurts. It’s like a pressure buildup, it needs to be let out at least bit-by-bit or something’s bound to explode.”

Reid nodded. “It’s not easy to do it, Derek. Believe me, I feel so weak, vulnerable, exposed, and I hate it. There are some parts of what happened that I’m not ready to talk about yet.” _Like the fact that he asked me about you and how he tricked me into saying that I liked what he was doing to me. Not to mention the fact that I actually had an orgasm._ “It’s still to fresh in…” he stopped when he felt a lump in his throat. He didn’t feel like crying again.

“And that’s okay. I want you to talk to me, but at the same time I don’t want you to feel like you HAVE to talk right then, you know? I don’t want you to feel pressured to say something you’re not ready to.”

“And I don’t.” Reid reached across the bed and took Morgan’s hand in his.

“There’s another thing. When I say this I by no means mean that I don’t want you to touch me. I do want you to if you want to and only if you want to. Please don’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with. Don’t push yourself.”

“Again, I don’t.” Reid brought Morgan’s hand up to his face, just as he had done when he had forgiven him three days ago. “I’m comfortable with this. In fact, I like this very much.” Reid turned on his side, and Morgan did the same so that they could face each other, although Reid avoided eye contact. “You are the only lover I’ve ever had who even once caressed my face like this.”

“Really?” Morgan asked in disbelief. “Not even the women?” Had his all of his previous lovers, male and female alike, really been so unloving to him?

“Not even them. Lila did but she doesn’t count. We were never actually together. This is something special that I only have with you. It’s something unique we share and I don’t want to lose it. This is something that…that he can’t have.”

“I’m glad there’s at least one thing in this world that’s untouchable.”

“Actually, there are two.”

Morgan couldn’t help but smile at the typical Dr. Reid M.O. of beginning a reply with the word “actually.” “So what’s the second untouchable thing?”

“Our love, of course.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love –“

Reid was interrupted by a buzzing sound coming from the nightstand on his side of the bed. “Perfect timing, JJ,” Reid groaned. 

JJ had been sending him pictures all day. Some were pictures of her and Will with Henry, but most were adorable pictures only of his four-year-old godson. He was grateful beyond explanation for the comfort the little blond boy’s smiling face brought him during the worst week of his entire life. It was as if somehow, even without knowing what had happened, JJ could sense from halfway across the country that he needed a pleasant diversion. He rolled over to retrieve the phone and before opening he text, said to Derek, “I love you.”

Reid’s demeanor shifted from almost happy to nothing short of horrified when he checked his phone. He flung the phone across the room and it clattered to the floor. 

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” Morgan asked in a panic. 

“Go get the damn phone and see for yourself!” 

So Morgan did. He rushed to grab it and with one look at the phone in his hand, he felt an instant rage swell in him.

The message was from Ethan.

“I swear to you, Spencer, if I ever get my hands on this man, I’ll kill him!”

“What does it say?”  
Morgan taped the touchscreen to revile the text. He tightened his grip so much that he was sure he heard plastic crack.

Reid begged, “Derek, what does it –“

“I can’t read it!” Morgan interrupted, immediately feeling horrible for cutting Reid off “Not out loud. Spencer, do you realize what could happen if you heard his words in my voice? Your subconscious may never separate it. I’m sorry.” Morgan placed the phone back in Reid’s hand. “I know you think it will be less painful for you to hear it from me instead of reading it, but it will only make it worse.”

“No it won’t,” Reid insisted.

“Yes it will!” Morgan breathed deeply and held it for a moment before releasing it in his next words. “The last nightmare I had, I heard ‘look up to the sky’ in JJ’s voice. Trust me, Spencer. I. Can’t. Read. You. That. Text.” 

Reid could hear nothing but ringing in his ears. He was terrified of what he would see on the screen of his phone, but he had to know what it said. He forced himself to look down.

_“i should have know u would go 2 ur man crying rape i spent 3 days in a cell bc of u so dont think im done w/ u”_

“Is that a threat?” Reid’s fearful voice asked.

Morgan shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’m going to make sure the guns are loaded just in case.”

_“Short-lived pleasure is the parent of pain” A Proverb_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I flipping love my bartender character! If I ever write another fic with a bartender in it, I’m recycling him. I realized after I finished the bar scene that he reminds me of my ex-boyfriend, who is still practically my best friend. Better friends than lovers, as they say!
> 
> Oh, btw, the grammar, caps, punctuation, all that great stuff is intentionally done like that in the text from Ethan to make it look like a drunken text really would. Trust me, I’ve done it. Got my drunk text on, I’ll regret it in the mo-nin’, but tonight, I don’t give a, I don’t give a…Sorry, Ke$ha snuck into my head. I’m going to sleep now!


	3. What he Hides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something about the attack that Reid doesn’t even know about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but it contains a big ol’ twisteroo! An anon reviewer on AO3 who flatteringly calls herself “chick who thinks you rock” wrote in her comment, “Am I the only reader sofar who is really curious to what Ethan got all giddy about his phone in chapter one for?” Well, you’re all about to find out!

_“Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.” André Malraux_

“Damn it, Ethan, I told you to forget about him!” Paul insisted as he finished packing the last of his belongings Thursday morning. “Do you want to validate the rape accusation? Do you want to get yourself pinned with harassment? Even without a formal charge there are still these things called civil suits, ya know! I’m telling you this as your legal counsel and as your friend. Come back to Louisiana with me and never even THINK about Dr. Spencer Reid again as long as you live!”

Ethan huffed in frustration. “Fuck it, Paul. You’re right.” 

“And delete that video, too.”

“Aw, come on, Pauly,” Ethan pleaded teasingly.

“Oh, no! Don’t you ‘Aw come on Pauly’ me. It’s incriminating and if anyone but the two of us ever find out about it, you’re jazzy little ass is right back in jail to stay this time.”

Ethan huffed again. “Fine. But can we watch it one more time?” 

“You know you sound like my three-year-old niece? She wants to watch Despicable Me over and over and over again and you, Ethan, ARE despicable.”

“Yeah, but you know you like me like that. Hybristophilia I believe is what it’s called, when you get turned on by someone who’s committed some heinous crime. Grand theft, murder, terrorism,” Ethan held up his phone and a look of danger spiked with lust snuck onto his face. “Even rape.”

Paul couldn’t hide that he was tempted, and Ethan could tell. They had watched it together the after returning to the hotel day before and had then performed a re-enactment of sorts, sans the open wounds. It had been the best sex of Paul’s life. Paul bit his lip and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was only five after nine and they had until 11 o’ clock to check out and until 1 o’ clock to get to the airport for their flight home. 

“I don’t see why we can’t just one last time. Just promise you’ll delete it immediately afterwards.

Ethan drew an “X” over his chest with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. “Now can we watch it?”

Paul smiled and the two sat down on the edge of the bed together. Paul wasn’t surprised that Ethan already had the file open. 

At the start of the video, all that could be seen was Ethan’s face.

_//”He’s gone to the bathroom to call his ‘lover.’” The last word is spoken in a mocking tone bordering preciously on contempt. “Spencer swears up and down that he wants me to, quote, ‘respect the fact that he’s in a deeply committed relationship.’ What a crock of shit! Didn’t stop him last time. He’s been flashing me those lusty little eyes all night and he may not know it yet, but he wants it.”_

_“Ethan,” Spencer’s voice is heard offscreen and Ethan quickly lowers his phone. “Are you calling a cab?”_

_“I was thinking about it,” comes the lie._

_“I think you should.” Spencer, unseen on the screen, sounds nervous. “I’m sorry, but you need to leave now.”_

_Ethan scoffs. “Says you or your boyfriend?”_

_Spencer clears his throat. “It shouldn’t matter whose idea it was. I’m telling you now that you need to leave.”_

_Ethan lays his phone on the small shelf of the key hook by the door. The small camera of the smartphone now picks up a large area, most of the living room in fact, including their current position and the couch. “So in other words, your controlling boyfriend wants me out of his house?”_

_“Ethan, I want you out of the home that I share with my life partner. If you make one more shallow passive-aggressive comment about the man I love I will forcibly remove you from my property. Call. Your. CAB! Wait for it outside.”_

_Ethan glances down at his empty glass then looks up at Spencer. “What if I don’t want to leave yet?” / /_

The musician and the attorney never finished their second viewing of the rape before they were both naked and rutting on the bed, their own labored breaths coming almost in time with the recorded screams emitting from Ethan’s phone, which now lay all but ignored on the nightstand. 

_“Refrain to-night;_  
 _And that shall lend a kind of easiness_  
 _To the next abstinence, the next more easy;_  
 _For use almost can change the stamp of nature,_  
 _And either master the devil or throw him out_  
 _With wondrous potency.”_  
 _William Shakespeare_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how to feel about myself after that almost-sex scene. I even wanted to, um, extend it, but I didn’t feel like it fit the mood of the fic. I’m considering writing it as a separate one-shot, but only if I think anyone would actually read something that.


	4. Love and Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clooney comes home and Garcia and Ashley learn the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me almost a weak to update, I swear my job is still trying to kill me!

_Everything of value that we will know in this life comes from our relationships with those around us. Because there is nothing material that measures against the intangibles of love and friendship.” R.A. Salvatore_

After a sleepless night of fearing the worst, both Morgan and Reid were startled to hear the doorbell ring that Thursday morning. Reid remained curled into a tight ball at the edge of the bed, never speaking a word. Morgan remained silent as well as he forced his exhausted body to travel to the living room.

He was relieved and pleasantly surprised to see Clooney, who had been staying with friend and former colleague Ashley Seaver, along with said former colleague and his “God-given solace” Penelope Garcia. Clooney pushed past his master and darted inside before anyone had a chance to exchange greetings. All three friends laughed. 

“Someone seams happy to be home,” Ashley said with a smile.

Morgan held the door open and stepped aside allowing the couple to enter. “I’m happy to have him home after the night we had last night.” 

“Oh my god, what happened?” Garcia asked in a hushed tone, assuming that Reid was still asleep.

Morgan sighed heavily. Again he would have to explain without explaining the delicate circumstances. “The man who…” he paused, “…who attacked Spencer is threatening him. Neither of us slept last night.”

Ashley shook her head in confusion. “Why the hell aren’t the police doing anything?”

“They arrested him,” Morgan explained, “But he only spent three days in holding because for some dumb-ass reason they couldn’t charge him.”

“If you give me his name I can SO destroy him,” Garcia offered.

Morgan had a good mind to lie and say that Reid hadn’t known his attacker, but then they heard Reid’s voice from the back of the living room.

“His name’s Ethan. Ethan Betchan.”

Garcia’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that your friend form New Orleans who was in town for the jazz convention?”

Reid nodded slowly. “Garcia, as much as I appreciate your offer, I really hope that you’ll refrain from inflicting any form of cyber harm. It would only anger him and he acts extremely irrationally when he’s angry. Or intoxicated. And I imagine that he’s most likely both of those things right now. He blames me for his stay at the police station because I reported him. He’s clearly an obsessive-compulsive narcissist. He’s also an artist, and artists, especially ones with a pre-disposition to violence such as Ethan, tend to believe that revenge holds a ‘poetic justice’ of sorts.”

Morgan gave his partner a cautioning look. “Spencer, have you been profiling him?”

“I don’t have to profile him. I know him.” All three gave him skeptical looks. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “And don’t even try to tell me that you haven’t tried to profile him as well, Derek.”

“I’m sorry if I shouldn’t be asking this,” Garcia cut in, “But, guys, what happened?”

Morgan was beginning to grow weary of ear-splitting silences such as the one that hell heavily then. He looked at Reid. “Do you want to tell them,” he asked, “Or do you want to wait for everyone to find out from Lovelady?” 

Reid cringed at the thought of Acting Section Chief Lovelady revealing the details of his attack to his family of teammates. At the same time he couldn’t bare the thought of doing it himself. Not again, not this soon. “They need to know, but I don’t know if I can…” he couldn’t finish his sentence past the lump in his throat; his head hung low.

Morgan understood. As a comforting gesture he reached out to his lover and lightly brushed his fingertips across Reid’s forehead, pushing away a stray lock of hair. It was the only physical contact the suffering man could seam to handle. “Do you want me to do it?” 

Reid raised his eyes to meet Morgan’s. “Would you?”

Morgan nodded. “You go back to bed and try to get some rest.”

Reid nodded and yawned as if on cue at the mention of rest ant left for the bedroom without another word, followed closely by Clooney, what had been sitting in front of the couch watching the four intently. 

“Get some sleep, Sweetie,” Garcia called after him unsure if he really registered that she had spoken.

“Let’s go sit at the table in the breakfast nook,” Morgan offered. “I know the couch would be more comfortable, but seriously I just want to burn that damn thing now.”

Ashley raised an eyebrow and followed Morgan to the table. “That bad?” 

Morgan nodded and the three sat down.

“Friday morning I left for Vancouver with Rossi to go interview a serial killer for his next book,” Morgan began. “Reid stayed behind because Ethan was in town and at first had wanted to play ketch up with his friend.” 

He wasn’t sure at first if he should mention Reid’s initial reluctance to meet with Ethan and of Reid’s history of infidelity or if he could tell the story while still dodging those small facts. However, knowing that these things would probably come out eventually, he decided to tell the two blonde women in front of him everything.

He told them about the text messages and the phone calls.

He told them about the unanswered texts and phone calls later on.

He told them about how terrified he had been that something was happening when he was unable to reach Reid. 

He told them how he had misinterpreted the mess he found when he came home and about how cruel he had been to Reid. Garcia almost reached across the table and hit him upon hearing this, but Ashley caught her hand.

Morgan almost wished Ashley had let Garcia hit him.

He went on to tell them about the trip to the hospital, Reid’s injuries, and how Reid had courageously submitted to the exam.

Last to tell was the arrival home.

Garcia was weeping silently into her hands by the end of the story. Ashley cried to, although not as fervently as her girlfriend. 

“He says he forgives me for what I said and did,” Morgan said in conclusion to his story, “But I don’t see how he can. I don’t even forgive myself.”

Ashley sniffled and reached across the table to take Morgan’s hand. She looked him directly in the eyes. “Derek, I know this is easier said than done, but you need to let go of your guilt and focus on helping Spencer heel.”

Morgan nodded and sighed. “Ash, I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”  


Ashley smiled weakly. “I may be a ditzy blonde but I like to think I know a thing or two where love is involved.” She then looked at Garcia who was beginning to calm down. “Right Penny?” 

Garcia nodded erratically. “Oh, my god, Ash-babe, I love you so much!” 

Morgan smiled sadly as the two embraced. He wanted so desperately to be able to hold his own lover like that again, but knew it would be a long hard struggle before that could ever happen. But now they had help in their fight; Garcia and Ashley would be there for them in whatever they needed, as would the others when they finally learned what had happened. Morgan felt a small ray of hope at this thought. Perhaps things would start to get better soon.

_“The most valuable gift you can receive is an honest friend.” Stephen Richards_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all Ashley haters will continue to read on notwithstanding the presence of said former BAU member. She’s a minor character and can be easily ignored if you chose to do so.


	5. Paper Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garcia does some snooping into Ethan’s cyber life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Seaver’s gone now. She probably won’t be back this fic. Perhaps she will grace us with her presence in part three. Yes, there will be a part three! This fic only has a couple chapters left.

_“Documents create a paper reality we call proof.” Mason Cooley_

As much as Morgan deeply loved them both, he could not deny a feeling of relief when the girls left only a few minutes after the, as Garcia had called it, “Hugs and tears fest.” Ashley had been called away on a pressing case and Garcia had to take her home.

In the quiet of their house, Morgan stood in he doorway to the bedroom watching Reid and Clooney asleep on the bed. He knew the sheets would now smell like dog, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that when he knew that Reid needed every last measure of comfort he could get. He chuckled quietly to himself at the sight of Reid’s arm wrapped around the sleeping animal, and suddenly a feeling came over him that Morgan himself found ridiculous. _That’s just great,_ he though, _I’m jealous of a damn dog._ Morgan already missed sleeping close to Reid that way. Reid now slept in a ball facing the edge of the bed and Morgan slept on his side facing away from Reid to avoid subconsciously attempting to cuddle in his sleep. The physical and emotional distance was pure agony. Morgan tried to see the light side, that at least they still shared a bed and Reid hadn’t decided to move to the guest room. 

At least they were surviving somehow. For the time being, anyway. 

_ **WIANWIANWIANWIAN** _

“Gi’me your phone, Ethan,” Paul demanded as he stepped out of the hotel room bathroom with a towel around his waist. When Ethan only gave him a defensive stare, he explained, “I’m going to search every nook and cranny of your files and make sure you deleted-“

“I did, I did, I told you before I’d be in a world of hurt if I lied to you. I even used McAfee Shred (3) so there’s not a trace of foul play to be found.” He tossed the device at the attorney who just barely caught it in time for it not to crash to the floor. 

“You better have,” Paul warned. “Now go shower, and make it fast. We only have forty-five minutes to check out.”

So as Ethan showered, he felt confident that Paul would be satisfied that all incriminating evidence was wiped clean from the phone. He had even cleared his Internet history so that the lawyer would not be tempted to hack his email account. He smiled at the thought, for sitting in his inbox was a lovely little present from himself that Paul would never find. Saying that he had deleted the video was in fact the truth. Ethan didn’t believe this little omission was technically a lie. After all, wasn’t every man allowed some secrets?

_ **WIANWIANWIANWIAN** _

_“I really hope that you’ll refrain from inflicting any form of cyber harm. It would only anger him,”_ Reid’s words echoed in Garcia’s head as she booted up her home network after dropping Ashley off at her house. 

_“I’m not going to disturb anything,”_ she thought in reply to the Reid in her mind, _“I’m just going to sniff about some.”_

Garcia’s hopes were that she might find some sort of evidence that could be used against the barely-human monster that was Ethan Betchan: a text message or e-mail of confession, perhaps. Reid had called him a narcissist, and didn’t narcissist like to brag about their conquests? The technical analyst cringed at the though of someone thinking of her genius boy that way and she even felt tears well up in her eyes again at the memory of the horrific story Morgan had told. She wiped a stray tear from her eye, not caring that she had removed a layer of so-called waterproof eyeliner along with it. 

Garcia started by granting herself remote access to Ethan’s cell phone. With a flurry of clicks her screens were filled with every file the smart-phone held. Music files, concert videos, and snapshots of drinking buddies abounded, but the hacker’s heart sank that she could find no texts of Ethan stupidly confessing to the attack. That was, until she found a text message that was undoubtedly the threat that had kept her two favorite men awake the previous night. 

_“i should have know u would go 2 ur man crying rape i spent 3 days in a cell bc of u so dont think im done w/ u”_

Garcia kept her unspoken promise to Reid and did not disturb a single megabyte of data, although she did download Ethan’s entire text history. She also found the conversation between Reid and Ethan regarding weather or not he was allowed the planned visit. _You would think that would be evidence enough to the police that this guy obviously has no concept of what “no” means, right,_ she thought and shook her head as she continued to search thru the messages finding nothing of use. _Did they even go thru the sleazebag’s phone?_ Probably not, she realized, as Reid would most likely have submitted his copy of the conversation.

Garcia then found it exceedingly easy to access Ethan’s e-mail account. She shook her head. _Your own name spelled backwards is not a secure password you conceited jackass!_

_Obsessive-compulsive narcissist_ , the Reid in her mind corrected her. She liked the term "conceited jackass" better.

Then something peculiar caught her eye. It was a brand new file in Ethan’s in-box, unopened, from himself. 

“O...kay?” She spoke out loud to herself and, with a strong sense of foreboding that she could not quite explain, opened the file. 

There was no text, only an attachment that appeared to be a video file. Garcia took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Be careful what you wish for, Penelope,” she reminded herself, and opened the attachment.

_//”He’s gone to the bathroom to call his ‘lover.’” The last word is spoken in a mocking tone bordering preciously on contempt. “Spencer swears up and down that he wants me to, quote, ‘respect the fact that he’s in a deeply committed relationship.’ What a crock of shit! Didn’t stop him last time. He’s been flashing me those lusty little eyes all night and he may not know it yet, but he wants it.”_

_“Ethan,” Spencer’s voice is heard offscreen and Ethan quickly lowers his phone. “Are you calling a cab?”_

_“I was thinking about it,” comes the lie._

_“I think you should.” Spencer, unseen on the screen, sounds nervous. “I’m sorry, but you heed to leave now.”_

_Ethan scoffs. “Says you or your boyfriend?”_

_Spencer clears his throat. “It shouldn’t matter whose idea it was. I’m telling you now that you need to leave.”_

_Ethan lays his phone on the small shelf of the key hook by the door. The small camera of the smartphone now picks up a large area, most of the living room in fact, including their current position and the couch. “So in other words, your controlling boyfriend wants me out of his house?”_

_“Ethan, I want you out of the home that I share with my life partner. If you make one more shallow passive-aggressive comment about the man I love I will forcibly remove you from my property. Call. Your. CAB! Wait for it outside.”_

_Ethan glances down at his empty glass then looks up at Spencer. “What if I don’t want to leave yet?” / /_

“Oh. My. God. Oh my god, ohmygodohmygod!”

Garcia sat frozen in horror as she watched Ethan practically pounce Reid, forcing him into a kiss.

_/ / When Ethan finally pulls away, Spencer screams, “Ethan stop! Get out of my house now. Out, out, OUT!”_

_Ethan grabs Spencer’s wrists tightly. “I’m not leaving until I get what I came here for, Spencer.” Spencer tries to yank his hands away with one swift pull, But Ethan falls into Spencer’s pull and their body’s slam together causing Spencer to stumble back._

_“Ethan, let go!” / /_

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Garcia continued her panicked mantra and clicked to close the window, but only minimized it by mistake. 

_/ /“Pretending you don’t want it, are you?” Ethan practically growls. “Just like you used to so long ago.”_

_“Ethan, I DON’T want it,” Reid insists, his voice beginning to shake with panic. “Please stop!” / /_

Garcia screamed and yanked the speaker chord out of the port, causing a “pop” sound but ending the terrible voices emitting from her computer. She swiveled her chair around to the other desk to hurriedly grab her phone.

She called Morgan. 

She was impatient by the second ring, so when Morgan answered by the third, she was relieved and terrified at once. 

“MORGAN!” she screamed.

“Wow, Baby Girl, what’s wrong?"

“I…I…I…”

“Garcia, you’re scaring me right now. What happened?”

“I…I…I…” Her voice shattered when she finally found the courage to actually speak. “I found something.”

_“We are always paid for our suspicion by finding what we suspect.” Henry David Thoreau_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (3) The McAfee cyber defense system has a tool called “Shred” that wipes files from the internal memory of your computer or hand-held devise. This is more efficient than simple pressing delete. It was originally designed with sensitive financial and legal documents in mind but is equally effective on rape videos! Ok, that was meant to be a joke, but it doesn’t feel like one…


	6. Greatest Hopes and Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions run high as Ethan is finally cornered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FF dot net readers, I want to thank each and every one of you. Some of you (like Sandylee007) have been with me from the beginning, some of you (like meep484) just jumped on board. You make this all possible. AO3 readers…where are you guys? You were so loyal and supportive during part one and now most of you have vanished! Do I smell bad or something (experimentally sniffs armpits) Just review PLEASE! BrennaK, Morgan_ReidismyOTP… I miss you guys!

_“It shouldn't be too much of a surprise that the Internet has evolved into a force strong enough to reflect the greatest hopes and fears of those who use it.” Denise Caruso_

“What do you mean you found something?” Morgan was extremely worried about Garcia now. Whatever hap happened, it must have been horrible.

“I, well, you see…I had to do something Derek! I couldn’t just dance around while the scumball who…did…that…to Boy Wonder just flies away! Not that you’re dancing around, I just-“

“Garcia, what did you do?” Dread spread thru him. He wasn’t sure how he, or Reid for that matter, would handle the heightened threat if Garcia had tampered with Ethan’s paper trail against Reid’s request. 

“Nothing,” Garcia defended herself quickly. “I didn’t touch, I just looked.”

Morgan sighed impatiently. Sometimes he wished Garcia would just get to the point and say what she meant. “I thought you just said you didn’t want to dance around. Just say it, Garcia. What. Did. You. Do?” 

“Nothing! He...I…there was…”

“Spit it out!”

“He recorded the whole thing and emailed it to himself before wiping the file from his iPhone’s internal memory!” 

Morgan wasn’t entirely sure what he had just heard, or perhaps he simply did not want to be. “What…what did you just say?”

“That sleazy, slimy, disgusting, god-awful freak of nature RECORDED IT! There’s a video, Derek. Apparently he set his phone up to record when Reid left the room for a second and laid it on that little shelf hook by the door. Then emailed it to himself, and then he somehow wiped the file from the internal memory of his cell like it never existed. This is sick, this is horrible, this is going to kill Spence!”

“This is also going to nail Ethan’s ass to the wall.” Every fiber of his being sung with an emotion he couldn’t quite label. Happiness didn’t feel right; relief and excitement weren’t strong enough. “Baby Girl you have no idea how amazing you are!”

“Excuse me, who do you think you’re talking to here, Choco-Doll?” Garcia shot back, a bit of their usual banter slipping through the drama. “Of course I know how amazing I am! And thus the amazing Tech Goddess commands you to nail this Ethan bastard and be everything Reid needs and more!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Baby Girl.” 

As Morgan hung up he was sure now that he was overjoyed and elated that the monster that had so deeply hurt the man he loved was going to pay for his crime, although in Morgan’s mind no punishment the law could administer would ever be enough. He wished he could track Ethan down himself and beat him within an inch of his pathetic life, but he knew that would only leave him with an assault charge, and then where would that leave Reid?

As soon as he had come down from the emotional high, Morgan dialed Detective Fowler’s number.

 _ **WIANWIANWIANWIAN**_

“I need a fucking cigarette,” Paul groaned after looking at the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes. It was 1:35 pm and his and Ethan’s flight that should have boarded over half an hour ago was still delayed. “Damn it, Ethan I told you we should have left last night! Why the hell do you pay me for advice if you never listen to it?”

“It doesn’t matter what time we leave Paul, the airports are busy this time of year. Kids are going back to school this month, so all the happy little families are coming home from their last vacations of the summer and the older ones are heading off to college. Everybody’s got someplace to be.” 

“Yeah, well-“

Paul was interrupted by an announcement coming over the speaker. “Flight 87 to New Orleans now boarding.”

Ethan clapped and rubbed his palm together. “Sounds like it’s our turn.”

As the two men stood, Ethan noticed three uniformed men approaching; not airport security, but cops, all of which he recognized from his stay at the police department. “Aw, shit,” he grumbled under his breath.

Paul looked around. “What are you…” then he saw them, too. “Aw, shit. Ethan I swear on my practice if you did anything with that video other than delete it I’ll KILL you!”

“Ethan Betchan,” Called the tall broad-shouldered man leading the posse that Ethan recognized as Detective Fowler, “You’re under arrest and charged with Rape in the First Degree.” 

Ethan desperately looked in every direction. There were security guards at every exit as well as dozens wandering through the terminal. Any thought of running was dashed. He clenched his teeth and balled his fists in anger when he realized the jig was up.

Fowler supervised his two subordinates as they boxed Ethan in on both sides pulled his hands behind his back and secured the cuffs. “You have the right to remain silent,” Fowler began quoting the Miranda rights. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney-“

“That would me be me,’ Paul interrupted and followed the police who were now escorting his client out of the terminal, “And I demand to know what this is all about.”

“Your client raped a man and he’s being arrested for it. That’s what this is all about.”

“Unless you have new evidence against my client, this is-“

Now it was Fowler's turn to interrupt. “Listen, Mr. Marquis. All of this will be discussed once we reach the station. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish Marandizing your client.”

Paul said nothing more but continued to follow the three officers and Ethan until they were outside.

“Look at the bright side, Pauly,” Ethan called as he was lead to the patrol car. “You don’t have to wait ‘till New Orleans for a smoke.” 

As he watched the car speed away carrying his friend and client in the back seat, Paul did in fact light a cigarette and inhale deeply.

“Damn it, Ethan,” He though aloud, blowing smoke into the air. “You really got into it this time, didn’t you?” 

_“It is an enduring truth, which can never be altered, that every infraction of the Law of nature must carry its punitive consequences with it. We can never get beyond that range of cause and effect.” Thomas Troward_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now **I** need a cigarette!
> 
> How many of you are clapping and jumping for joy at Ethan's arrest? It isn't over though. One more chapter left on this fic and then I'll leave it open for PART THREE! I'm so excited for that one!


	7. Do It Quickly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real aftermath of Garcia's discovery unfolds

_“If you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s best to do it quickly.” Jase Robertson_

Morgan felt as though he was trapped in some surreal alternate universe as he hung up the phone from his conversation with Detective Fowler. He could hear his own heartbeat and, if it would have been possible, he could have sworn he felt the turn and orbit of the earth. He couldn't be sure what, if any, emotion he felt while his thoughts alternated between _thank god we have something to nail this bastard with_ and _how the hell am I going to tell Spencer?_

He was brought back to reality and he almost jumped when he felt something brush his leg. He looked down at the old black lab that was looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“You need to go outside boy?”

Clearly understanding, Clooney led his master to the back door and Morgan opened it to allow the dog to run free in the large fenced in back yard. 

Morgan then decided to go to the bedroom and look in on Reid, who he hoped was still sleeping. The longer he had to prepare how he would tell his partner that he had been even further violated than they previously thought, the better. When he reached the bedroom, however, he found Reid sitting up on the edge of the bed stretching his arms and yawning. Always having found that motion extremely adorable, Morgan smiled. 

“Hi,” Reid greeted at the tail end of his long yawn.

“Hi to you, too. Sleep well?”

Spencer nodded. “Did Garcia and Ashley go home?”

Morgan nodded, the smile now gone at the memory of their visit. Now dread began to set in. “Ashley had a case.”

Reid nodded. “When we tell the others…” Reid lingered on the thought, “I want to tell them myself. I mean, I need you there with me, of course, but I’ll be the one to say it. I think it’s something I need to do.”

“Only if you feel up to it.”

Did he feel up to it? He felt his stomach churn at the thought of facing his family and describing the hell that had been inflicted on him. He also knew that at some point he needed to talk about it; to REALLY talk about it. But the difference between knowing and feeling… 

“Something’s wrong,” Reid declared in a matter-of-fact tone.

“What do you mean?” Morgan asked, his attempt at sounding innocent and clueless failing miserably.

“Your forehead is creased and you’re not exhaling fully. That always means something’s wrong.

“Am I that easy to profile?” Morgan asked in an attempted joke. Once again, he failed. 

Reid stared Morgan straight in the eyes. “Derek, I’ve worked with you for almost a decade, I’ve dated you for over four and a half years and I’ve lived with you for over two years. I know what every subtle sound and motion mean.”

Morgan slowly released the breath he hadn’t realized before that he had been holding. There was no avoiding it.

He had to tell Reid about the video.

Morgan sat down on the edge of the bed a safe two feet or so away from Reid. He didn’t know how to say it, although he knew the best way to say anything was to just come out and SAY it. 

Then, out of nowhere, he heard a phantom voice in his mind

_“Always so direct."_

_“Shut up, Carl,”_ he thought to the dead man(4) in his head, _“This is not the time or place for me to have to deal with you right now!”_

Reid helped to chaise away the intruding ghost when he spoke. “Derek, please tell me what’s going on.” _There’s no way it could possibly be worse than anything else that’s happened this week,_ Reid though but didn’t dare say aloud in fear of tempting fate. Not that Reid believed in such things, but still… 

Morgan forced himself with all of his inner strength to speak. When the words came out, they sounded slow and forced, but at least it was said. “Ethan set up his phone to record the whole thing.”

Reid gasped and recoiled like he’d been slapped in the face, something he would have preferred to the news he just heard from Morgan. He had to ask something that he dared to hope. “Was it just a voice recording or…” _A video._ He couldn’t have forced himself to finish that question even had he wanted to.  


Morgan shook his head slowly. “He propped it up on the shelf hook by the door. Apparently it caught everything.”

Reid’s head spun. He felt numb and he felt EVERYTHING; his heart pounding out of his wounded chest, the blood coursing thru his veins, the entire world spinning out of control.

He choked when he tried to breath, and he instantly realized that it wasn’t air that caught in his throat. His hands flew up and clapped over his mouth while he darted to the bathroom. His knees hit the tile floor beside the toilet with an audible thump and once again the entire contents of his stomach surged out of him with shattering force.

Morgan rushed after him and could only watch helplessly from the doorway as the love of his life physically and emotionally broke down. He wanted to be able to do something, no matter how insignificant, so he rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water for Reid. The sight that met his eyes when he returned almost killed him. Reid’s arms were wrapped around the toiled like he was hugging it and his body seamed overrun with shuddering and shaking. 

Morgan was surprised that Reid was able to speak, but in a gravelly, gasping voice, he did. “Ethan…he…always said…we should…make a sex tape…long time ago. I…always told him…no.” 

“Bastard has no concept of that word,” Morgan said bitterly and knelt down next to Reid. He held out the glass of water, which Reid eagerly accepted. He took a long sip, swished it in his mouth and spit it out in the toilet before slowly drinking it all.

Morgan took the glass and set it aside. “You do know what this means, right, Love?” Morgan immediately regretted those words when he saw what was nothing short of furry flash across Reid’s glazed eyes.

“Do I know what this means?” he spat out. “This means that it’s not just an event of my memory; that it’s in constant existence. This means that it will be copied and transferred and multiplied like a fucking cockroach!” Reid took little notice of the fact that Morgan flinched at his rare use of a profanity. “This means that it NEVER ends, Derek! It will last forever in someone’s damn hard drive! He’ll be raping me forever!” 

Morgan felt like his heart was being grabbed and twisted at the last thing Reid said. It was a physically painful concept. Those where words he was sure he would hear in his darkest nightmares.

“Spencer,” Derek spoke softly and carefully. “I know that’s how it feels to you right now. But this also means that Fowler has something solid to use. They’re on their way to arrest Ethan as we speak. Hell, the bastard might be in cuffs already. So as hard as it is to know that something so horrible is out there, also know that Ethan’s going down because of it. He won’t away with this. He’s going to pay for what he did to you, Spencer.”

As much as Reid wanted to ask how Morgan had learned about the video, he couldn’t make himself utter a sound. He suddenly hated the bathroom and needed out as soon as possible. Slowly he pushed himself up with his arms. That’s when Morgan, after standing up, made the mistake of reaching out to try to help him. The tips of his fingers had barely brushed his arm when he jerked away and emitted a sound frighteningly reminiscent of a hiss. Morgan practically jumped back and watched helplessly and in shock as Reid struggled and finally managed to stand.

“I need to goy lay back down,” Reid said and passed Morgan on his way to the bedroom. Morgan followed and watched, still in a state of shock as Reid crawled into bed, curling up on the edge in a ball. 

In the doorway, Morgan suddenly saw his vision blur. After twenty-four hours of no sleep after not even being rested from his last stretch of sleeplessness, the emotional turmoil was beginning to take its toll on his already tiered body. He staggered forward into the room and braced himself on the dresser so that he would not collapse from sheer exhaustion.

“You’re allowed to use the bed too, you know?” came Reid’s voice, muffled by a pillow. “Just don’t touch me.” 

Morgan couldn’t resist it and slipped under the covers on his own side of the bed. Unaware as to weather or not the other man was going to fall asleep, he closed his eyes and his body was finally overcome be much needed sleep.

Eventually Reid fell asleep as well. Both men slept right through the phone call from Fowler and Clooney scratching at the back door wanting to be let in.

They slept, but it was not at all a peaceful rest. Nightmares filled their sleep; both men haunted by their own demons but suffering from the same evils of shame, violation, and betrayal.

_** WIANWIANWIANWIAN ** _

“How the FUCK could you be so STUPID, Ethan!?” Paul screamed at his client in the interview room. Paul was pacing the concrete floor and Ethan sat at the table, hands cuffed and head cocked to the side in apparent disinterest. “You created a trail of solid, traceable evidence when you were inches away from walking away from this! And now you’re sitting there staring at me like I’m your damn MOTHER lecturing you about cleaning you GODDAMN room!”

Ethan closed his eyes in attempt to hold his composure. Secretly he was just as upset as Paul, but he had never been one to outwardly show anger unless, of cores he was drunk. “Just calm down, Paul.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN!? How the fuck I’m I supposed to calm down when my friend and client royally fucks himself over because he wouldn’t listen to me!”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know some pudgy little tech girl would go snooping around my shit?” the chained man defended. “Spencer or Derek must have told her about me. That’s not my fault.”

“It IS your fault that there was something for her, or anyone for that matter, to trace. And how the hell do you know it was a pudgy tech girl?”

“Spencer has a couple of group pictures of his team on his wall,” Ethan explained. “He pointed them all out to me. Apparently he reeeeally misses some Emily chick that moved to the UK. But that’s beside the point. This is ALL beside the point, Paul. The point is that I’m in jail and we need to figure out how I’m going to get out of this.” 

“First off, when I post your bail, I’m adding it to your fee. Second, you need to start listening to me and doing everything I say from now on, do you understand me Ethan?”

Ethan nodded. Once more he drew an “X” on his chest, both hands rising up due to the handcuffs. “Gotcha.” 

“Good. Now I need nicotine, caffeine, and aspirin in that order before my damn head explodes. You are going to sit there like the good little client I know you can be and do. Not. Speak. Not a single word to Fowler and his goons until I come back. Got it?” 

Ethan grinned tightly and gave his lawyer thumbs up. Paul rolled his eyed and stormed out of the interview room, maintaining a professional appearance for the officers as he passed by. When he passed Detective Fowler, he gave him a warning. 

“I’ve instructed my client not to say a word to anyone without my presence. I trust that you’ll refrain from harassing Mr. Betchan while I step outside for some air.” He did not wait for the detective to reply before calmly walking away.

Back inside the interview room, Ethan sighed out the frustration he had been holding out of Paul’s sight. _So this is why people smoke,_ he mused. _I hope my bail gets posted soon. I need a drink._

And then that’s all Ethan could think about. Reid and Morgan were the farthest things from his mind, let alone the cops who were undoubtedly on the other side of the two-way mirror watching him. He couldn’t even think up a tune in his head. All his mind could focus on was a bottle of whisky heavy in his hands and warm on his lips. 

_“The good news is there's no hell. The bad news is there's no heaven. There's nothing.” Kerry Packer_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (4) Told you I’d spoil events of season eight! If anyone doesn’t know or remember, Carl Buford dies in se8ep18 Restoration.
> 
> That’s all for today folks! AO3 readers, if you want to keep up with the story, you may want to bookmark the series What vs. What. FF dot net readers, you may want to add me to your Author Alerts to watch for part three coming (hopefully) soon. 
> 
> Next up: in What You Want vs. What You Need, Reid is trying to heal, but testifying in court is only making things worse for him and his relationship with Morgan. Before I work on that, though, I would like to post at least one more unrelated oneshot. I’m sure my readers would like to see what else I’m capable of. Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> (1) In some countries, you haven’t gotten season eight yet and may not know why Erin Straus is not the section chief anymore. Later chapters will spoil this as well as other events of season eight. 
> 
> (2) Ethan’s surname was never mentioned in cannon, but he needs one for this fic. I gave him the name of a co-worker whom I despise. FYI, we will be seeing A LOT of Paul Marquis as the story progresses.


End file.
